


Stay

by VioletKnox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletKnox/pseuds/VioletKnox
Summary: You stand beside Draco as you watch Voldemort ask you all to declare yourselves after he brings forth Harry’s dead body to flaunt his victory. You struggle on making a decision until you see Draco’s parents step forward summoning him.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 191





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> The reader is a pure blood Slytherin from Scotland who is dating Draco. I’m basing this one shot on the movie version of this scene. All dialogue (except the readers of course) comes from there. Hope you enjoy 😊
> 
> Warnings: feelings of loss and defeat (anxiety and a bit of depression)

Ash swept through the air as silence fell upon the crowd gazing at the flag of victory woven by the Death Eaters who stood firmly behind their leader. It was over. You’d lost after making such an effort, going against the better judgment of your housemates, the blood of your fellow peers spilled; all gone to vain. Mistakes were always something you’d taken by the horn, tackling them until they were fixed, but this, there was nothing you could possibly do now to undo the horrid lapse you’d made when deciding to stay behind and defend your school. Regret swept through you as you watched Hagrid slowly step forward, thick tears streaming his cheeks, the sound of the chains binding his wrists stinging your ears. 

Your stomach dropped as the sick memories of all the jokes your boyfriend made, making fun of your Gamekeeper, played through your head. You’d laughed with him, even joined him. And to make matters worse, all you could think about in this moment were all the snarky remarked your boyfriend _would_ make seeing Hagrid cry in sorrow like a lost puppy if not for the fearful sensation buzzing through each and every Hogwarts student, professor and staff members. The sudden urge to retreat back into the safety of your mother’s arm back home in Scotland had you wishing you’d listened to her plead the day you’d packed up for another year at Hogwarts. 

_It’s perfectly safe mam, I’ll be fine_. You’d been so sure of yourself back then. Though perhaps your judgment of the situation was truly blinded by the real reason you’d returned to Hogwarts despite the tragedy that struck the year before. You knew exactly how your parents would react if they knew you risked your own life for a boy they’d only heard you speak of. But you’d trusted him when he told you there was nothing to fear, that no matter what happened, you’d be safe so long as you were by his side. The news Professor Snape had taken over as Headmaster had you feeling all the more confident as he’d always been your favorite teacher, protecting his Slytherins, aiding them when needed. Had you been told this was how the year would have gone down in the end, you never would have left the security of your home.

You had so much you left to do, your life had only just begun. All the plans you’d dreamed of as a child, all the promises exchanged between you and your boyfriend. After meeting his parents over Christmas last year, you’d begged him to come to Scotland with you after graduation so he’d meet your family. It seemed silly now to be so excited about such a thing when you found yourself at the hilt of Death’s cruel sword. A naive child reaching for the cookie jar at the tips of her fingers, ignoring the danger of glass shattering atop her. 

It almost felt like a dream now, these last few wonderous years at Hogwarts. You’d met the person you believed to be the love of your life, your second half, your soulmate. Even when the curtain finally lifted around him, your gazing landing on the true person he’d been all along, you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Others would call you foolish, blinded by love, but you knew the boy you’d grown close to all these years hadn’t been a simple mask and when you saw him stay behind while the younger students were taken to safety before the battle begun, you’d hoped, prayed that his actions were a sign of his true loyalties. And in a way, you were right. You’d just made the wrong assumption as to whose side he was weighed towards. 

You were on your way to safety. If you hadn’t seen him slither past everyone, determination struck in his eyes, you never would have stepped back into the death sentence the castle offered. It wasn’t in your nature, nor was it for any student belonging to your house, which is the exact reason why you found yourself the only Slytherin standing to defend Hogwarts. 

Laughter broke out from the other side of the courtyard, your attention snapping back to peer at the commotion before you. It was quite unsettling to listen to such noises coming from those who’d slaughtered families, murdered children. Worst of all were the chuckles coming from the wizard placing himself above all others, claiming his superiority as if it was a simple birthright. 

Everyone stood there in silence, most unsure what to do next, and you were no exception. Your composure was on the break of falling apart, fear being the only thing keeping you from turning around and bolted back into the castle. Harry Potter had been the symbol of resistance, the light showing you to the end of the tunnel, your only hope at defeating the greatest threat the wizarding world had come to know. But that was all gone now. Dead along with the boy who lived. 

You watched as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named flaunted his victory, the death of a young boy praised by his followers as if a great evil had just been purged from the earth. It was an awful sight. His loved ones displaying nothing less than grief and absolute dismay. Hagrid, holding him with complete defeat in his eyes. What hope did you have of surviving if the only person who’d managed to previously defeat the dark wizard was dead. With Dumbledore gone, Harry lying motionless in the Gamekeeper’s arms, there was nothing, no one left to save you. 

“And now is the time to declare yourself.” Your eyes shifted from the figure speaking to the those crowding the entrance hall and the ground. It felt oddly unsettling to stare at him, as if you were staring down the Devil himself. But you just couldn’t help your attention pull in his direction as he spoke. “Come forward and join us…” you held your breath as the smile on his face faded. “or die.”

Your lips parted ever so slightly, slowly letting out the breath you held, careful as not to bring attention to yourself. What kind of choice did you have now? Betray all you stood for, all the morals you’d been taught, or face the probable possibility of death. It was a situation you never thought yourself capable of facing, one you knew you didn’t have the courage for. But alas, here you stood in the wreckage of your school with fate facing you down, asking you to choose a path of horror or demise. You were too young to consider joining the Death Eaters. You were too young to die. 

It was a misconception to assume all pure blood Slytherins despise those of less than pure magical blood. Did you correct those who’d converse in front of you, claiming muggle-born witches and wizards carried less magical talent than others? No. Objecting to such a thing when you were outnumbered was something only a wanker would be foolish enough to do. But you were no fool. You were well aware that blood status didn’t affect one’s ability. How could you when you’d seen your own classmates perform spells, brew potions and even fly a broom better than you. As for muggles, well, their ignorance was something you were sure would bring them to their own demise. Show them something like an Animagus and their brains would try and come up with some ‘rational’ explanation. Magic Tricks. How arrogantly blind muggles are. 

“Draco!” The name of Lucius’ son fumbled out of his mouth in urgency, as if the faster he spoke, the quicker he’d bring his family to safety. You watched as the man who so evidently stuck out from the crowd, his blond hair a speck in the sea of black behind him took a small step forward, his hand stretched out towards the boy standing to your left. 

You were never fond of Draco’s father. The first time you’d met, he looked down at you in judgment. That night felt more like an interrogation than the family dinner Draco had promised you. But you still put your good foot forward and did your best to impress them, show you were worthy of their son’s love. And as the night passed, you felt your nerves melting away along with your anxiety. The warmth of their open arms, welcoming you into their home settled into your chest as you sat there conversing with Draco’s Mother. She was much softer than you’d expected. Obviously proud of her only child, spending the night talking about nothing less than his ambition and successful endeavors. 

Slowly, you turned your attention to Draco, watching his lips twitch in fright, the frown on his face spoiling the perfect canvas of his features. He was afraid. Genuine fear seeped from his body which only had you quivering in your place all the more. You’d never seen him so shriveled, feeling smaller than he was before now, not even during his first Quidditch match against Potter, or during his O.W.Ls. Not even when the Death Eaters had invaded the school last year. Not once had you seen him flinch the way he did as he watched his parents stand behind He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, begging for his obedience. 

You watched his gaze drop to the ground in utter defeat and you immediately brought your attention back to his parents, wondering just how badly they wanted their son to stand by their side. How far were they willing to go for him? After all that talk about greatness and superiority, passion and devotion, you’d never once seen them defend his honor after he’d lost a Quidditch match or received a grade lower than expected. Shame was all that had awaited him from them during his time of need and you were the only one who’d provided him with the love and compassion he craved. Surely they didn’t expect him to conform now. Not after all they’ve done to him, to this school, to the innocents who suffered at their hands. 

Draco was conflicted. Even now as you stared into the eyes of desperation laying on his parents’ faces, you could feel his hesitation, his fear. Could you blame him? You might not have someone on the other side begging you to step forward, but that didn’t stop you from considering it. Survivor’s instinct proved to be a cruel mistress tonight, sparing no one. 

“Draco.” His mother spoke calmly, her face revealing no emotion, no sense of desperation or urgency. It was like she was calling him for dinner. “Come.” She stepped forward and mimicked her husband, stretching out a hand in trepidation. 

Your breath hitched, feeling more agitated than ever. You had to make your choice. Do it now or let it be chosen for you. You blinked rapidly, your chest heaving for air as your heart pounded against your chest. You wanted to cry, to let the tears flow down your cheeks in frustration. You wanted nothing more than to live and go back to the prodigious life you’d taken for granted. But weakness would be all that people saw if you let your shield down. You couldn’t even spare a second, a small moment to give into the emotions rushing through you. You had to stay strong. 

There was no denying your need to live overpowered the disgrace you feared if you stepped forward, surrendering your soul to the Devil. Yet your feet stayed firmly in place. You were paralyzed from where you stood, trapped by your own mind. What life would you lead if you were to join them? No, it was clear that no matter what side you picked, the life you knew, the life you loved so dearly was gone. Never to return. 

What was the point in fighting, what was the point in sacrificing so much if the end result was the same? Your soul was damned either way. Your life was over and there was no point in fantasizing otherwise. 

With a heart heavy filled with dread, you slowly reached for Draco’s hand, grasping it like the day you’d comforted him after losing the match against Gryffindor in second year, like the day Dumbledore snatched away the house cup from you, like the day you danced with him at the Yule Ball. His hand lay motionless by his side, his eyes slowly shifting toward yours. 

“Stay with me.” you whispered, each word lagging behind the other. His gaze met yours and you finally saw the stress ease off his shoulders as you offered a subtle smile. 

His lips parted, fear causing his words to retreat back down his throat. He wanted to ask how you planned to survive. Why you wanted to stay fighting for Hogwarts, but standing there, all eyes landing on him thanks to his loving parents had him feeling all the more cautious of the fear he emitted. He wanted to retreat into himself. He’d failed the Dark Lord again, just like his father. What treacherous punishment awaited him if he crossed to the other side. He’d already lost his wand and Potter was dead. There was no redemption, no remorse, no forgiveness. His father certainly received none when he’d let the prophecy slip his fingers. 

Nothing was left for him on either side. He’d betrayed those he stood amongst and he’d failed those who stood opposed. The only person he had yet to disappoint was… you. You always believed in him, even when his parents had given up hope and he’d tossed you aside thinking he belonged to some greater cause. That his duties as a Death Eater triumphed over the loyalty you had to offer. Even after all he’d done, all you the things you learned about him, here you were, by his side giving him one last chance to show compassion. One last chance at the only redemption anyone had to offer. 

Draco kept his gaze steady with yours as his fingers escaped your grasp and for a second you thought he was going to walk away, abandon you, leave you to die alone until you felt him intertwine your fingers with his own and hold you firmly in place. Neither of you going anywhere and you were glad he’d decided to take your side. Your old life might have been snatched from you by this war, but at least you had each other. And together you would face whatever was to come. Together you would step into fates warm embrace. Together, you would live. 


End file.
